Second chances
by MrsRegulusBlack123
Summary: Sirius always assumed that his brother's cowardice was what lead Regulus to his early death. Falling through the veil opened his eyes to the truth- and gave a Death Eater his chance at redemption.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>Falling through the veil wasn't painful. It wasn't much of anything, really.<p>

That's how Sirius would describe it if ever asked. It was like nothing. It was just a big, dark, black _nothing_. It wasn't warm, or cold, or particularly uncomfortable. It was just like he was floating on an invisible mass of nothingness- unable to see, unable to hear, unable to _do _anything.

Falling through the veil felt like nothing.

It was a void, empty. Meaningless.

He didn't know for how long he was in there, just himself and his thoughts to keep him company.

_Harry._

_He had to get back to Harry._

But how?

The truth of the matter was, he didn't know.

Was he dead? For the longest time, he believed he was, for what else but death could be so mundane? Was this what would await him for eternity, then? Nothingness? That somehow didn't seem fair.

And yet, just about when he was starting to accept it, change did come.

Suddenly, there wasn't only nothingness.

Suddenly, it was noisy, it was cold. And, suddenly, he was falling.

_Fast._

He fell with a THUMP, and pain spread across his side like it hadn't in a long time. Sirius let a few choice swear words slip through his lips, his hands moving up to cradle his injured torso as he tried to roll himself around.

Some cold, wet slab of stone sure wasn't what he had envisioned being at the other side of the veil. Neither had he anticipated slamming face-first into it, for that matter.

Well, this sucked.

He pushed himself up, feeling dizzy and disoriented and more than a little confused. A cold draft caused him to shiver, and it was only then that the reality of the situation dawned on him.

_He was alive_! He- he had to be, the dead didn't bleed- and he was pretty sure pain was a thing reserved for the living anyway. Right- if he could just- he might still have the time to get something right.

He clambered to his feet, wand in had (_who knew he still had that? He certainly hadn't up until that point_), and breathed in, readying himself for the inevitable vertigo and general unpleasantness that was associated with apparition.

Only that it never came. Because before he could even try it there was a white, bony hand encircling his ankle, its touch freezing, pulling him back down and towards the lake with an extraordinary force for something so thin.

It was only years of dueling that caused his quick reflexes to flare up, and before he knew it, there was a flash of light that forced the hand to let go off him and threw the body across the cave. It clattered into the wall, and fell into the water.

For the first time since he landed there, Sirius Black realized that he was not alone.

The cave was _filled _with, skeletal, white, vacant faces. They were the faces of dead people. _Inferi, _his mind effortlessly supplied.

Sirius remembered reading about them in his youth (his mother dearest had thought he might benefit from a few hours in the library as a timeout), after all the Black family library had a large collection of books and just about all of them were about the Dark Arts. He had always despised that.

He had to admit though, knowing that fire was the only way to effectively fight off inferi was some very useful information to possess right now.

He conjured some fire, and breathed a sigh of relief as the creatures slunk away in fear, creeping back into the dark depths of murky water. The fire did provide some lighting, and with it, a bit more information about his surroundings.

There was a little island in the middle of the cave, one which emitted an eerie green glow, and was currently being overrun by inferi. It was so bad Sirius couldn't even see the ground anymore- all he could see was inferi- and a man fighting against them weakly as they tried to drag him under.

Wait.

...

_A man._

A living person.

There was a _living person_ in that cave with him!

Sirius' mind jolted into action, he couldn't just leave some random bloke to this fate! Waving his wand, he made a ring of fire around the person, watching just long enough to see the inferi scamper to get away, and jumped into the lake himself.

The fire kept the inferi busy, which gave Sirius the time to swim over to the drowning person, still keeping his wand handy to fend off any stray inferi that did manage to get past the inferno.

The person seemed to have lost consciousness. He was sinking. And he was doing so fast.

But Sirius was close now. He could do this. Just a few more meters.

Three.

Two now.

Just a couple of strokes.

He could do this. Sirius pushed himself to swim faster, manhandling one last inferius off the stranger before managing to grab hold of him.

_Yes!_ He thought, a victorious grin spreading across his lips and he pulled the stranger closer so that he could apparate both of them the hell out of that terrible cave. Only that... he couldn't.

He couldn't apparate!

_Of course. Anti-apparition wards._

With the fire doused, and both of his arms indisposed, Sirius could do only one thing. He could cling onto the stranger and swim.

That was easier said than done, but he had to try- and try he would. He kicked strongly, giving himself a boost and manhandling the stranger away from the island and towards the semi-safety of the coast.

There was a little wooden boat between them and the coast, and it occurred to Sirius that could work with that.

Bony hands wrapped themselves around his legs and arms, and he felt them try to pull him down under the water, but he kicked as hard as he could, trying to dislodge them. It worked the first time, but as the number of hands increased, the task became more difficult.

He had the time to push the stranger on the boat before he was submerged. His eyes stung, and the pale white faces surrounding him were horrifying, but he could use his wand now, so he did.

With a powerful blasting charm, he propelled himself out of the lake, landing- quite painfully- against the cave's wall and then sliding down onto the floor. He managed to sit upright with a groan of pain, then used a spell to pull the boat towards him. He thanked the gods above that this crazy plan of his had worked out.

Exhausted, he dragged both himself and the stranger out of the cave and then proceeded to promptly collapse on some unknown seashore.

~X~

Sirius didn't know for how long he was out of it, but by the time that he woke up, the sun had already set. It was dark, and it was noticeably cooler than it had been earlier, causing the man to shiver a bit.

The stranger was still lying next to him as well, in the same position he had left him and looking worse for the wear. And Sirius... he just felt like he'd aged 30 years in the span of the past few hours.

How had he even gotten himself in this mess?

He didn't understand anything.

He pushed himself up shakily, taking a look at the stranger and thinking that... well... he could hardly just leave him there, could he? The man had nearly died, _and_, whatever that was back there- it could be important. But he had to get to Harry too. Had to make sure he was okay.

Merlin, if anything had happened to the kid- he didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive himself.

He ended up struggling to get the guy to his feet so that he could get a good enough grip to safely side-along apparate him. He was surprisingly light for someone this tall- nearly as tall as Sirius himself in fact, and it was only as Sirius attempted to throw him over his shoulders, that something striking caught his attention.

The stranger's sleeve had hitched up slightly, and there, in plain sight for everyone- but especially Sirius- to see, the Dark Mark was. It was ugly, and black, and every bit as repulsive as he remembered it.. Sirius felt his skin crawl, a feeling of disgust rising from the pit of his stomach as he pushed the Death Eater's limp body right off him again.

He had his wand pointed at the unconscious man's chest in seconds.

_He had risked his life for a **Death Eater**? _

Sirius felt sick. He should've left the bastard to drown. In fact, he should throw him back at the inferi right now. He probably deserved whatever was coming for him.

And on the other hand- god damn it- this person... whoever it was... he didn't look much older than Harry. He certainly weighed less than Harry- and _that_ was bad.

A question nagged at the back at his mind- stronger than before now that the stranger's affiliations had been revealed, because even in the darkness... the stranger seemed... familiar.

It hadn't been important earlier, he'd been too pumped with adrenaline to really think about it, but now that he wasn't on the verge of being drowned by a bunch of moving corpses... this Death Eater's features, they tugged at something deep inside him.

He didn't know what.

"Who are you?" He wondered out loud, crouching down so that he could get a better look.

No answer came. Just soft breathing, so quiet he could've almost missed it.

Dark hair, features so pale they were nearly white in the moonlight. High cheekbones and thin lips. His robes were of the expensive kind- hand-tailored.

A wave of- dare he say it- nostalgia gripped his heart. This was all so familiar- and for a moment, Sirius thought he was looking upon a ghost.

Sirius felt as if he were in a trance when he raised his wand.

_It couldn't be. It just couldn't be._

"Lumos."

_And yet it was._

There, in the pale wandlight, that face- even though he hadn't seen it in more than 16 years- was unmistakable.

Regulus.

It was _Regulus. _His little brother- the Death Eater who had died sixteen years ago- a whole year before Harry was even born! The little brother whose remains they never found. There was a gravestone with his name, but there had never been a body to bury.

He hadn't been invited to the funeral, and he hadn't wanted to go either. Good riddance, he had thought to himself as he drowned the throbbing pain with alcohol. One Death Eater less on the world. Better for the Order.

But god, he just looked so _young _now. And he was, wasn't he? He'd been 18- barely out of Hogwarts! An adult on papers but... he was still a child! He remembered himself when he was 18- reckless and flying over London with his flying motorcycle.

He swallowed.

This was his little brother. And he was still alive.

What did that mean for him? He clearly wasn't dead.

Had he time-traveled? Or was this all just some elaborate dream? Would he wake up in Grimmauld Place and find his brother's picture was still a skull?

Somehow, he didn't think so. And just _what _was that cave? Why was his brother there? Was that- was that his punishment for trying to get out of the Death Eaters? For being afraid? For doing the exact same thing anyone this young would've done? For making a wrong choice and regretting it afterward?

The Death Eaters had always said not enough of him was left to recover, and he had always assumed- he had _thought _he had died by somebody's wand... but was this what had really happened to Regulus? They had stuck him in a cave with inferi to- to- to _what _exactly?

"_I don't know... I don't- I don't like deep water."_

"_Oh come on, Reg! There aren't even any grindylows in this lake!"_

Sirius turned his eyes back to Regulus' face. He didn't look well- other than too pale, he looked like he hadn't been sleeping well in months. Years even. He looked older than he really was.

"_Yeah but what if I- what if I drown?"_

"_I won't let that happen. I've got your back, little brother."_

"_Do you promise?"_

"_I promise."_

Regulus had always had that one irrational fear of drowning. A fear that kept coming back through the years, and one Sirius doubted his brother had gotten over after he became a Death Eater.

The kid used to avoid the lake at Hogwarts like it was the Black Plague... and, with an unpleasant hint of guilt, Sirius remembered that one time when James and him had found it funny to toss his little brother into that very lake. Regulus nearly had a panic attack and Poppy had scolded both Gryffindors so severely they never tried it again.

It didn't seem quite so funny now. Not when his little brother had really nearly drowned.

In the end it was that thought that caused Sirius to put his wand away and assume his animagus form. He clamped his teeth around the collar of Regulus' robes and started pulling.

~X~

They found refuge in a small house just outside of an unsuspecting muggle town.

The house was abandoned, looked like it had been abandoned for a couple of years before Sirius discovered it, and Sirius was tired enough not to care about appearances. It wasn't perfect, it barely passed as habitable, but it would have to do.

Dragging his brother across the room and onto the couch had left a big trail on the dusty floor, which only proved how much this place needed a cleaning. As it was, Sirius didn't particularly care, he'd spent years in worse places.

For the first couple of hours, Sirius busied himself with setting up the appropriate wards to ensure nobody found them- and he also threw in some anti-apparition charms, just in case his brother tried to make a run for it as soon as he woke up.

When that was done, he searched his brother for a wand, which to his surprise he found neatly tucked away in his cloak's wand pocket. He'd have expected it to still be back in the cave, underwater perhaps or just discarded after he realized there was no way out- but he certainly hadn't expected to find Regulus' wand sitting harmlessly in his pocket.

Sirius recalled Regulus being good at charms- he could manage fire- and god knew the boy had spent hours upon hours holed up in that library in Grimmauld Place. If Sirius had know about inferi, it was highly unlikely that Regulus- who had probably read every single book in the Black library- was unaware of how to fight them.

Hadn't he tried to defend himself? But why? Why would he do that?

Had he been obeying some sadistic order Voldemort had given him? _Stay there and let the inferi drown you_ or something like that?

Or what if- what if he had been tortured and was too weak to try to fight back? Merlin knew the guy looked like he had been put through the crutiatus.

And why wasn't he waking up anyway?

With a sigh Sirius admitted to himself he wouldn't get any answers until his supposedly dead brother awoke from his slumber to tell him the answers himself. That left the older wizards with a couple of new things to consider.

Like what he was going to do now, for instance.

If, if he had been transported to the past- then that must mean that Lily and James were still alive.

Regulus had died in November 1979.

1979. That gave him a whole year to right everything that had gone wrong. He could- he could kill Pettigrew while he still had the chance and Lily and James wouldn't be killed. Moony or himself could be the secret keeper, and Harry would grow up with his parents! Sirius himself would never be sent to Azkaban for 12 years.

His first thought was that he had to contact Dumbledore. He had so much information- they might actually get a head start and- and do _something_. But how? And what was he going to do with Regulus anyway?

He could hardly leave him unattended. What if he woke up, or what if Death Eaters found him again? He might have sensitive information that they could use against Voldemort in exchange for his protection or something... or this could all blow up in Sirius' face because his brother probably wouldn't be willing to work with _mudbloods_ and _blood-traitors_. He was still a Death Eater.

So no, Sirius couldn't leave his brother alone. He'd wait until the latter awoke, and he'd figure out what to do later. That was the verdict.

Satisfied, he set out to planning the next couple of days instead.

Over the course of the next couple of days, Sirius managed to get some information about where and when he was exactly (November 23rd 1979 and just outside a village called Little Hangleton). On the second day, he went out to get himself some food, his brother hadn't woken up yet and it didn't look like he was going to anytime soon.

He also took care of transforming some of his features so that he wouldn't be recognizable to anybody- his brother included. It probably wouldn't be very good for him to know his brother from sixteen years in the future had saved him from death.

The first two days passed without a hitch, on the third, Regulus finally woke up.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sooo I'm back, with yet ANOTHER Regulus story. I swear I'm still working on updating my other fics- I will, at some point.**

**Please leave a review, reviews make writers happy :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>It was in the middle of the third night that Sirius was suddenly awoken by someone's loud coughing.<p>

It took him a while to properly comprehend what this might mean, but as soon as he did, all the sleepiness was gone from his system and he was already halfway into the living room, wand outstretched and ready to fight if need be.

The coughing continued, evolving into dangerous hacking and what sounded like -Sirius winced- his brother retching. By the time Sirius reached the center of the living room, the younger Black was no longer lying in the couch, as he had been for the past three days, but the door to the bathroom was open and judging from the noises coming from within, Regulus was in no state to make a run for it anyway.

Sirius approached, still cautious, and poked his head inside.

Sure enough, there his little brother was, bent over the toilet and breathing heavily. His fingers had turned white from gripping the lid so tightly, and he honestly looked like he could use a bath.

Regulus had always been about the most tidy and neat person Sirius had ever known, and seeing him in this state- robes unwashed, hair disheveled, stubble unshaven- it was understandably disorienting.

He let the boy calm down for a moment or two, gather whatever there was of his dignity, before announcing his presence.

At the sound of someone clearing their throat, Regulus started. For the first couple of seconds he went completely still, his hands clutching the toilet lid so tightly Sirius thought it might break under the pressure, a shiver of what could only be fear ran down his spine. And then all that was gone, and Sirius watched as his brother straightened his back, removing his hands from the lid and bringing them to his lap instead.

When he turned to look at him, Regulus was the perfect picture of a haughty pureblood. Or would've been- if the look hadn't been so ruined by the tattered clothes and disheveled appearance.

Surely, their mother would've had a heart attack seeing her dearest Regulus in this state.

"Under who do you serve?"

His voice was harsh, kind of gravelly- as if he had been using it a lot to scream lately. Or as if he hadn't spoken in a long while. Neither of those options were particularly reassuring.

And, _really_ Regulus? That was his first question that left his lips? A simple "thank you for saving my life" wouldn't have hurt him either. Sirius supposed it would make sense though- they were in the midst of a war, weren't they? And his brother was caught right in the middle of it.

"No one."

The reply was instant.

"Lies. You're clearly no muggle- and... no matter how hard they may try to deny it- everyone has affiliations."

Sirius didn't miss the way Regulus hesitated- or how he subtly tried to check himself for a wand. The older man let him- Regulus' wand was safely stored away anyway- out of the Death Eater's reach.

"I'm not a Death Eater, if that's what you're afraid of." Sirius lifted his sleeve, revealing a left arm which was clear of any markings. No Dark Mark. Just skin. And at least Regulus seemed to relax a little bit at this piece of information.

He nodded.

"Well..." he licked his lips, a nervous habit, "I'll just get straight to the point then- why aren't I dead?"

Blunt was never something Sirius had associated his little brother with. Then again, neither was suicidal.

"Because I saved you."

Regulus Black had always been somebody Sirius didn't know how to read- ever since attending Hogwarts they had drifted apart, and then nothing was ever the same again. But the blank mask of practiced indifference was absent right now. Shock contorted into fear, and then -surprisingly- into rage.

The younger Black surged towards him, hands gripping Sirius' robes in a tight grip.

"_What the bloody hell did you do that for?!_"

"What? Would you rather I just... left you there?! You would've died!"

"That was the point! I wasn't- I wasn't supposed to-"

"You weren't supposed to what? _Survive? _I knew you were a coward, but this-"

"There is no other way out!"

"Did you even _try_?!"

It was with a sneer that could've frozen hell over, that the Slytherin released him. For a moment, Sirius stumbled.

"Don't you dare try to pretend you know anything about me." Regulus hissed.

Sirius saw red right then, and it took all of his self-control not to pull his wand out and hex the arrogant little prat into next Sunday. Here he was, having risked his own life to save his Death Eater hide, and he was still shouting at him like _he _was the one that was wrong.

God, his blood boiled. He had forgotten how much Regulus got on his nerves. Regulus and all his family honour bullshit. Regulus and his Slytherin-ness. Regulus and his cowardice. If that was really all he was, maybe he really was better off dead.

"You know what, Regulus, screw you. If you're so tired of life go seek out your Death Eater friends and-"

Before he got to continue that thought, Regulus doubled over- a pained expression overwriting his anger. It was more than a bit distressing, and Sirius forgot all about his own anger as he leapt over towards his little brother.

"Hey, hey there. Steady now." He put an arm on the boy's shoulder, watching helplessly as the latter closed his eyes and tried to fight what looked like a serious case of vertigo. "Water. I should get you some water..."

He almost left the room, but Regulus caught his arm in his hand and even though it wasn't a particularly strong grip, Sirius came to a halt. Regulus was looking right at him, his pale grey eyes wide with confusion.

"How do you know my name...?" He managed, "I never told you my name."

His eyelids slid over his eyes, and Sirius knew he was out cold.

_Well, _the man thought dryly, _that had gone well._

With a sigh, he picked Regulus up and carried him back to the couch, where he carefully dropped him and made sure no limbs were hanging over the sides.

Realizing his brother had had nothing to eat or drink since the cave, Sirius made a simple ham and cheese sandwich, and filled a glass with some water. He proceeded to place them on the coffee table in front of Regulus and dragged one of the kitchen chairs into the living room.

Now sitting next to his brother, all that was left to do was wait until he woke up.

Slipping up and using his name had been a stupid mistake, but he could work around that. He would have to. With any luck at all, Regulus might not remember it... though Sirius wouldn't count on that.

He wasn't planning on sticking around for too long anyway- he had to find James and Lily. He had to warn them. He had to remove Pettigrew from their company, or they would wind up making the same old mistake they made last time. He would leave his brother with a few days' worth of food, in this hut with all the wards, and all he had to do was keep his head low. It was more than any Death Eater deserved- especially when the right thing to do would be to hand him over to the ministry.

But that would mean Azkaban, and Sirius still cringed at only the thought of that place. Funny, how he wouldn't have cared if it had been any Death Eater but this one.

~X~

At long last, his brother stirred, a soft groan escaping his lips. The action caused Sirius to startle from his semi-sleep, taking a quick look around him before sitting up straight and running a hand through his hair... Regulus had been quiet and immobile for so long that without realizing it, Sirius had drifted off.

Well, it was a good thing that he was a light sleeper.

"Good to see you're awake." He said, and as Regulus turned to look at him, Sirius was met with the perfectly calm and collected Black look that he knew so well- he looked as if he hadn't just fainted in the middle of their shouting match- or at least he tried to.

Regulus had always been too proud to admit weakness. But then again, so was Sirius usually- so maybe that might just have been a recurring family trait.

Regulus opened his mouth to talk, but was swiftly overtaken by another round of violent coughing.

"Here, have some water-" Sirius pushed the glass of water into Regulus' hands, carefully patting his back a couple of times. "Should help with the dehydration."

Reluctantly, the boy accepted the glass, eying it suspiciously for a moment before bringing it to his lips and taking a sip. It didn't escape Sirius how he winced as the swallowed, but that didn't seem to stop him- after the first sip, the glass was empty in seconds. Sirius refilled it. And then again. And once more. Finally, Regulus seemed to have enough.

"You have my thanks, sir." He spoke, and Sirius was pleased to hear that his voice sounded somewhat better now. Sirius made a "don't sweat it" kind of gesture.

"That's for you as well." He nodded at the sandwich. "You've been asleep for three days, so I thought you might be hungry."

"Three days? It's been... three days?"

"Yes. I was starting to worry I'd have to take you to a healer."

Regulus pursed his lips, but for a long time, he didn't say anything. He didn't touch the sandwich either, his eyes remained trained on Sirius instead. Curious. Calculating.

Finally, he opened his mouth.

"Who are you?"

"Ron." Sirius lied. "You can call me Ron."

Perhaps not his best pick, but he could hardly tell Regulus to call him Snuffles. Besides, Ron hadn't even been born yet, so there was no way for his little brother to find a link that lead back to him.

Regulus didn't seem all that convinced.

"You knew my name. How do you know who I am?"

"Who doesn't know of the Black family?"

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Well, why were you in that cave?"

The question got him a hard stare in return.

"For the same reason you were most likely there, if you knew where to find it."

They glared at each other, neither willing to give in. It was silent for a while.

And then, he felt something poking at his mind. It was subtle, barely even there, but it was noticeable enough for Sirius to shut it down before it could delve any deeper.

_Legillimency? _How the hell did Regulus know anything about that? There was, apparently, a lot he didn't know about his brother.

"You know, some would say that just trying to get your information by force is rude."

"Then just tell me, _who are you_?"

"The guy who saved your life." Neither of them were getting anywhere like this... Sirius could tell, and so could Regulus. "Look, you probably wouldn't believe me anyway if I told you the truth."

"Well, I'm not believing the lies you've been feeding me either, _Ron_, so you might as well give it a try." Which were brave words coming from the man without a wand. Still, Sirius shook his head. "Fine. Look, can you just give me my wand back? I'll be out of your hair and-"

"Nice try, but no. I can't let you go yet. I doubt you'd get far anyway- you look like you're ready to collapse again."

With an exasperated sigh, Regulus leaned back.

"Alright. I just hope you know what you're doing."

"Still getting there." Sirius cheekily replied, to which Regulus raised a curious eyebrow. "Oh, and," The man raised his wand, pointing it at the other's hands, "Incarcerous."

A number of ropes flew out of Sirius' wand, instantly wrapping themselves around Regulus' hands and tying them to the sofa's leg, thus ensuring his inability to get anywhere.

"You can't be serious..."

"Oh," Sirius grinned, never one to let that particular opportunity slide, "I am."

~X~

Everyone had different ways of dealing with stress and worries. For Walburga Black, it tended to be a cup of nice warm tea- usually preceded by a lot of yelling and flinging hexes at innocent pieces of furniture. Bellatrix wrung her hands. Narcissa softly bit her lips.

For Orion Black, it was pacing. Whenever something was worrying or keeping him up at night, he would go downstairs and he would just pace up and down the living room, his hands folded behind his back.

He would be silent, and the members of his family would know not to disturb him.

Orion Black had paced on the night Sirius left for Hogwarts for the first time. Just as he had paced that one time in Regulus' second year, when the boy had had an accident during quidditch practice and had had to spend the night in the hospital wing because of it. Merlin knew he had nearly paced a hole in the carpet on the night Sirius left 12 Grimmauld Place to go live with those blood-traitors. But all of that seemed like nothing compared to now- it was nothing compared to the worry that nestled itself in the pit of his stomach. The dread he felt each time he dared turn his gaze upon the family tapestry to seek out that one particular name. There was no skull over it. Yet.

Walburga was in the other room, and he was sure that had there not been so many wards and charms protecting them against it, even the muggles outside would've been able to hear her shrilly, furious screams.

"WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS _MY SON, _YOU FOUL CREATURE? _WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!_"

There was a loud crash from the room Orion's wife was in, almost managing to rise louder than the house elf's sobs.

"Kreacher is sorry, mistress! Kreacher will punish himself, Kreacher will!"

"I DON'T WANT YOU TO IRON YOUR FINGERS, YOU USELESS ELF! I WANT YOU TO TELL ME WHY MY SON HASN'T BEEN BACK IN THREE DAYS!"

Kreacher broke into even louder sobs and Walburga continued screaming, a routine that had been going on for nearly two days now. She would tire herself out eventually, and she would lock herself in their bedroom.

Orion would continue pacing, and Kreacher would punish himself again.

They should have noticed- they should have done something about it all when Regulus started looking so pale, so sleepless and disheveled. Those black bags under his eyes should've been their first hint, his request to be taught the art of occlumency the second. Orion himself should've put an end to it all when the boy started to spend his every waking moment in the Black family library, pouring over ancient tomes and neglecting his own needs. He should've stopped Regulus when he came into his study that night, looking like a walking dead man and requesting to borrow a book from his personal collection.

He should have done _something_. He wished he had.

"WHY WON'T YOU OBEY MY ORDERS?! I AM ORDERING YOU TO TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED TO REGULUS!"

"Bad Kreacher! Bad! Kreacher is a despicable abomination-"

"SHUT UP! IF YOU WILL NOT OBEY ME-"

"Walburga." Both of the room's occupants turned to look at the house's patriarch and suddenly all was silent. Walburga's face was red, eyes wide with fury and madness- an undershirt clutched in her hand threateningly. He shook his head. "That's quite enough. Put the clothes away, dear. Kreacher- you leave. Now."

Kreacher proceeded to bow, and with a loud _pop_ he was gone.

Walburga stormed past him, and moments later Orion Black heard a door slam shut.

~X~

The chair's wooden legs scraped against the floor as Sirius dragged it across the room. The noise woke his brother, and by the time he placed the chair next to the sofa, Regulus was somehow already wide awake and watching him like a hawk.

Sirius sat down.

"Alright, so here is how this is all going to go." He said, pausing in order to make sure his brother was listening. There was no need to, really, because Regulus was already watching him attentively. "You're going to give me any information you have on Voldemort (Regulus visibly flinched at the name), and then I'm going to let you go. I'll give you your wand back and everything, and you can decide what you do from then onwards. You can remain here if you want, or you can try your luck out there."

"..."

"..."

"That's all?" Regulus questioned in a testy sort of voice, as if he didn't believe Sirius would stick to his end of the bargain.

"That's all." Sirius confirmed. "..."

"I don't see how that's going to help me. But... I _do _have information- and I might be willing to share in exchange for... something else."

Right. Of course. He didn't know why he had ever expected anything else from his Slytherin brother. Sirius frowned.

"Well... depends." He crossed his hands over his chest, leaning back into his chair. "What is it that you want?"

"Your cooperation. We seem to have a common goal here, _Ron_. So let's work together to achieve it. Two is better than one, is it not?"

"Common goal...? You mean you want to-?"

"Kill the Dark Lord? I wouldn't have risked my life like that if I didn't... _he_ doesn't take treason lightly."

Treason? _Regulus_? Of all people, Regulus Arcturus Black would be the absolute last person Sirius would've ever suspected of treason. (Except perhaps Bellatrix. But she was crazy anyway.) Getting scared and trying to back out of a terribly bad decision? Yes. But this? No way. All of a sudden, Sirius felt light-headed.

Regulus betraying his beloved Dark Lord? Just what kind of messed up dream was this?... Last time he checked, Regulus was speaking of the man as if he was wizardkind's saviour. Though he had to admit, last time he had really spoken to Regulus was a long long time ago (more so for him than for Regulus right now), before his brother joined the Death Eaters and he the Order.

But... if this was all real and actually happening, having an ex-Death Eater on their side might actually be beneficial. There wasn't much to decide about in the end, his answer was obvious.

"Alright. Keep talking."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And that's it for this chapter. Sirius sure has a lot to discover concerning the "death" of his brother, doesn't he? Next chapter's going to be busy- so you can look forward to that!<strong>

** Please leave a comment to tell me what you thought about the chapter, see you next time~**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>"Do you know anything about... horcruxes?"<p>

The word sounded unfamiliar even as Sirius spent several seconds pondering over it inside his head. He knew a thing or two about ancient magic- how could he not, having grown up in Grimmauld Place- but this particular word was definitely not one he'd ever heard of before. Regulus was watching him expectantly, and Sirius frowned, then shook his head.

"No. What do they have to do with this?"

There was a grim little smile on his brother's lips, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Everything." He replied after a moment. "Didn't think you'd know about the cave if you didn't know what it was hiding..."

That cave again... he still did't know what the deal with that was.

"So... there were these horcruxes things-"

"Horcrux. Singular. There's only one." He paused there, as if he was asking himself _is there really? _But he seemed to discard the thought and went on talking instead. "Anyway, I stole it."

Sirius sat a bit straighter, his eyes quickly sweeping over Regulus and everything about him. As he didn't know exactly what the thing he was looking for looked like, he came back with nothing.

"Do you have it on you now?"

"No, but it's somewhere safe. Someone I trust is working to destroy it."

Sirius nodded. Something dangerous then- something even a Death Eater would want destroyed- that narrowed the list down quite a bit. What could be so atrocious that it would cause Regulus not to just get cold feet, but to try and rebel against the man that had once been his idol? The curiosity was eating him up from the inside.

"Right. So this... _horcrux_..." The word sounded alien as it rolled off his tongue, "It's something dangerous, right? What is it? A weapon of mass destruction...?"

It would make sense, and then, maybe, if he had inside intel he could prevent... _everything_ that went wrong. James and Lily, the McKinnons, the Longbottoms, Dorcas Meadows, Benjy Fenwick, Fabian an Gideon, that poor boy Cedric.

He could prevent so many deaths.

And Harry wouldn't have to grow up with those muggles! From what little he knew of them, they had been terrible.

"Well, no. It's not a weapon... but it _is _dangerous. The creation of a horcrux is very dark magic. Probably some of the darkest known to wizards- I haven't- I have never come across anything like it."

Dark magic... well, Sirius was not surprised to hear that.

"A horcrux is an object- it can be anything you choose it to be- which had been... let's say _enchanted_, to hold part of one's soul. It's a much more complicated process, but I'd rather not repeat... it's not for those with a weak stomach."

"So what you're telling me... is that Voldemort (his brother's flinch at the name didn't go unnoticed) split his soul? And put a part of it in something else?"

Regulus nodded.

"Yes. You see, that way even in the off chance that someone were to kill him somehow, part of him would still be preserved. To most people, death would be preferable."

Life after death? That was what this was about? Immortality sounded like something right up Voldemort's alley, to be honest. And that did explain the events following that night at Godric's Hollow at least. Why he had survived, and how. And how he was able to come back following the end of the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts.

Merlin, if only they'd _known_ earlier. He could've been dead once and for all.

Of course... they _could _have known earlier, probably.

The thought of a stormy night many years ago entered his mind. There had been rain, lightning and thunder, and it was cold. Terribly so. Sirius had just gotten back from Order business, or maybe it was auror training, or a night out with James- he couldn't remember- but all that he knew was that when he reached his doorstep, he found a cloaked figure sitting in front of the door.

The figure had jumped up at the realization that he wasn't alone anymore, and wide grey eyes had found his own. They were nearly identical, he knew. Those eyes were a recurring family trait. He also immediately knew who the soaked, hooded figure standing in front of him was.

He had looked miserable- too thin, with dark ugly bags under his eyes and a gaunt look overtaking his features. His hair and clothes hung to his thin frame and he was trembling from the cold- his lips were slightly blue. He wondered now, for how long had his brother been sitting there in the cold and the rain, waiting for him to return from wherever he'd been?

But nineteen-year-old Sirius hadn't thought of any of that, he had snatched his wand and pointed it at the boy instead.

"_Why are you here, Death Eater?"_

If Regulus had known about the horcrux now, it wasn't that far fetched to believe he had known when he went to Sirius for help all those years ago... there had been but a week between Regulus' death and the last time Sirius saw him.

He'd never even listened him out, Sirius remembered.

"So, we destroy this horcrux... and Voldemort dies?"

"No, not exactly. But we do destroy his backup- he'll be mortal like any other man then."

They really could've used this information during the wars- both of them. If what his brother was saying was the truth, they'd been trying to catch a dragon with a net designed to catch butterflies.

"So what do we do now?"

"We need a plan, first of all. And... that's also where you come in..."

"Oh?"

"Yes. We can work out the plan, but before we do- I need your help with something else." He seemed hesitant, unsure if he should proceed. But Sirius- or Ron, as Regulus knew him as- was his only ally right now. Or indeed probably the only person who would not kill him on sight or ship him off to Azkaban with no questions asked. He went on, in the end. "I need to disappear- the world needs to believe I'm dead."

"You want me to help you _fake your death_?"

"Yes. You've got to understand that I was certain that I would die- and believing that, I let my pride allow me to... do something very stupid."

"What the hell could you possibly have done? Left a note bearing your name on it where the horcrux used to be?!"

The awkward silence that followed was an obvious enough answer.

"You... actually did that? For real?"

"It sounded like a good idea at the time."

Sirius supposed that, in the face of death, a little act of taunting the man who he'd turned against wouldn't sound that bad... he wouldn't be alive to suffer the consequences after all. It still wasn't a good idea though... especially if that man happened to be one Lord Voldemort.

"I'm not sure how often the Dark Lord checks his defenses. I don't think it's very often... but if he does happen to decide to investigate... I don't want to be alive and within his reach."

"Good point..." There was a moment of silence before, "What about the Dark Mark? Doesn't that form like a two-way connection between Voldemort and his servants?"

Instead of answering his question, Regulus sighed.

"Could you refrain from using that name? It's... I just don't like to hear it." Sirius rolled his eyes and went on to tell him exactly what he'd told any other person who'd asked him not to mention Voldemort's name.

"It's just a name. Besides- fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself- ever heard of that?"

His brother made a face.

"Ugh, you're quoting Dumbledore. You sound like my brother."

"Hey, that's not a bad thing. He's a good bloke I heard." He couldn't resist adding- "Very handsome as well."

Regulus just raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

"Well, whatever. To answer your question, yes. That's what it does, essentially. It's actually the second point I wanted to talk about- I can't fake my death unless something is done about the Mark first. He will know it's fake."

Sirius nodded.

"And do you happen to have any ideas about how we should go about that?"

Regulus shrugged.

"We'd have to know more about the magic that created it. I suspect it's a Protean Charm- or a variation thereof anyway."

Sirius racked his brain for any information he had on the Protean Charm- hadn't that been one of the questions on his NEWT exam for Charms? Its purpose was to link a number of objects- or in Voldemort's case, people- together so that they could alert each other when their aid was needed.

Presumably, Voldemort had altered the charm to fit his purposes, because Sirius had never heard of the Protean Charm being used on a human before.

"If it is a Protean Charm," The older Black finally spoke, "Trying to undo or forcefully remove it might turn out badly."

A nod.

"I wouldn't suggest it. The last one who tried it ended up damaging the core of his magic so badly he couldn't even produce a levitation charm anymore." Sirius made a surprised noise, and Regulus gave titled his head a bit. "What? You didn't honestly think it's loyalty that keeps most Death Eaters from rebelling, did you? The Dark Lord isn't a force to be reckoned with. Wilkes was a good example of that."

Sirius thought that he remembered Wilkes, he had been Slytherin- a year older than himself- the keeper of the Slytherin quidditch team. He'd been killed by aurors about a year before Voldemort's downfall... and he supposed that the fact he had only attempted to flee and hadn't fought back wasn't so surprising now.

"It's connected to your magic? The Dark Mark."

"Yes." There was no hesitation or doubt in Regulus' voice. Just the hard, cold truth.

_A life of servitude or death_, he'd told Harry- it sounded even more real now. He wasn't even surprised that Voldemort would do something like that to his followers, atrocious as it was.

"Completely removing it is out of the question then." Sirius concluded.

"It is."

"It might be possible to alter the spell it without damaging the Mark." _Or your magic, hopefully._

"Would you be willing to bet _your _magic on that?"

He had a point, of course, but what other choice did they have? Sirius decided that he could really use a drink right now.

~X~

Sirius didn't sleep much anymore. He hadn't ever since Azkaban. While in prison, his dreams had constantly been plagued by the death of Lily and James, as well as Peter's betrayal and his escape thereafter. And as for after Azkaban... it were the memories of that place that kept him up late most of the nights. On the off chance that he did get some sleep, they were usually filled with confusing colours and endlessly long hallways that never lead anywhere.

He woke up feeling frustrated and confused, as if he hadn't rested at all, and usually spent the rest of his time wandering around Grimmauld Place and waiting for everybody else to wake up.

Sirius preferred to be awake, stay alert, but mostly he just missed the days when sleeping was an escape from reality. When he'd wake up after a good dream and tell James all about it or just smile and keep it to himself. He missed the simplicity of it all.

The new environment hadn't seemed to do anything about his insomnia, Sirius thought as he lay on the lone bed in the bedroom he had claimed as his. There were seven cobwebs on the ceiling, the one on his left being a bit bigger than the other ones, the ceiling consisted of 32 wooden planks (at least 7 of which were rotten) and if the sounds above him were anything to go by, there were probably rats in the attic. The walls were paper thin, allowing both sound and temperature to pass through them quite freely. He supposed they'd feel more of it if it wasn't for the heating charms he'd cast on the place.

He could see why whoever had lived there decided to move out. The wallpaper- an ugly green colour that reminded Sirius way too much of Grimmauld Place- was peeling off the wall, revealing moldy walls better left covered, and the floorboards creaked whenever stepped on.

Sad as it was, Grimmauld Place was almost preferable to this shack. Sirius sighed, moving his eyes back to the ceiling. What they were going to do was still unclear right now- Regulus absolutely refused to go anywhere near Hogwarts or Dumbledore, and Sirius supposed that while he had the form of 'Ron' he couldn't really go waltzing into Dumbledore's office without explanation either. He might no longer be a wanted man in this time- and what a pleasant realization that had been- but that didn't mean it was a good idea to throw all caution out the window.

So Dumbledore was out for now. They'd have to visit him eventually because _surely_ if anybody knew anything about time travel and how Sirius could get _back_, it would be Dumbledore. But now was not the time for that. First, they had to make sure Voldemort didn't come chasing after them as soon as he realized he'd been betrayed.

Regulus was convinced that they should fake his death. Sirius just didn't see _how _they'd accomplish that.

It was the sound of murmuring that distracted him from his thoughts some time later. Sirius had finally been drifting off a bit when he heard it, a pained whine coming from the room next to his. He sat up straight, hand automatically reaching for his wand.

_Had they been found out?_ He wondered as he pushed himself out of the bed, almost knocking over a chair that had been inconveniently placed in his way. That was impossible- the wards would've alerted him if there had been an intruder! Had they found a way around that? How many of them were there?

In his mind he could already see Regulus, weak and tired and _wandless_ as he was right now, surrounded by a bunch of Death Eaters. He imagined Bellatrix, and her fondness for the cruciatus curse. He imagined Fenrir Greyback, or, god forbid, Voldemort himself standing over his little brother- wand raised and ready to cast what was undoubtedly an unforgivable cures. Would it be the cruciatus or the killing curse though, that was the question. The thought was terrifying either way, and as he burst into the living room Sirius Black was ready to take on as many Death Eaters as he could if it meant saving his little brother.

Half an incantation had already spilled past his lips when he realized that Regulus was in fact not in any immediate danger. The living room was empty save for the two of them, and the wind was still howling outside. It was slightly colder in the living room than it had been in the bedroom, Sirius realized, and he promptly casted another heating charm.

The floorboards underneath him creaked as he made his way over to the boy on the couch. He didn't seem to be awake, and neither did he seem aware of Sirius' presence for that matter. In fact, if his twisted features were anything to go by, Sirius would say that he was having a very unpleasant dream. His face was twisted into a look of anguish and though his lips moved, no meaningful words left his mouth. His fingers twitched restlessly and he tossed and turned, his movement hindered by the ropes that bound his hands together. Sirius could make out the words "no", "please" and "no more" in between the seas of cries and pleas.

He was having a nightmare, Sirius realized belatedly.

Unsure of what to do now that his brother wasn't actually in any life-threatening danger, Sirius just stood there awkwardly for a few moments.

He hadn't had to deal with anything like this since his childhood, when Regulus would wake him up in the middle of the night because he'd had a nightmare and wanted him to check for monsters under his bed. Because mother and father would be angry if he woke them up for such an absurd reason. Because he was his big brother and he was afraid of nothing.

Only that Regulus and him weren't in Grimmauld Place right now, and they weren't 6 and 7 years old respectively. They were grown men, or he was (he didn't know if he could count 18-year-old Regulus as a man yet), and his brother lay in front of him, looking like he was experiencing the full effects of the cruciatus curse.

A thought, a horrifying thought, hit him right then. _Had Regulus been put under the cruciatus before? _Voldemort wasn't known for his leniency and it wasn't hard to imagine a younger and scared Regulus who had just somehow failed a mission standing, _kneeling_, in front of his master- begging for forgiveness.

He could imagine it clearly- Voldemort would laugh, and then he'd say something that sounded soothing but was anything but... and then... _crucio._

"Regulus! Regulus, wake up!"

In hindsight grabbing his brother's shoulders and shouting at him probably hadn't been the best course of action. Being shaken awake by a man he had only really met yesterday only caused Regulus further panic. The younger wizard- disoriented as he was- thrashed, attempting to kick Sirius off him, and suddenly they were both shouting at each other but neither was able to make out the words of the other. Sirius was pretty sure he heard some spells and hexes mixed in between Regulus' panicked shouting. A useless attempt, really, because he didn't have a wand.

"Calm down! Regulus! It's me!... uh, you know, _Ron_. I saved you from the cave, remember? We're allies." That didn't seem to do much. And why should it? 'Ron' was practically a stranger to Regulus. But Sirius couldn't possibly leave him like that, could he?

He thought of days long before Hogwarts, when everything was simple between them. When Sirius was the big brother, and Regulus would follow him around and take part in little tricks and games that never failed to aggravate Mother. In the end, falling back into that old big brother role was the easiest thing in the world.

He cradled his little brother in his arms, shushing him and rubbing his back soothingly the same way he sometimes remembered his mother having done long long ago. Back before Hogwarts, before they couldn't stand to be in the same room without starting a row. It felt like a completely different lifetime now, the time when his mother had smiled at him warmly and his father was the person he wanted to be like when he grew up. He sometimes doubted the memory was even real- it went against everything he remembered and knew about the hag.

"Shh, hey, calm down. I've got you. It's alright." The words, familiar as they were, seemed to have a somewhat calming effect on the younger wizard. Regulus stilled, leaning into the warmth of Sirius' hug, and eventually his breathing evened out. He didn't move for some time, just clinging to the only other living being in the house as if it could hide him from all of reality. Maybe he thought it could, in that moment.

"I've got you now, you're safe." Sirius repeated, still rubbing soothing circles over the other's back.

Regulus muttered something weakly in response but his face was buried in Sirius' old robes and the man couldn't make out what it was. He sounded tired.

He wasn't sure for how long exactly they sat there, but it couldn't have been that long. Eventually Regulus seemed to become aware of his surroundings- as well as who he was with (or at least, who he thought he was with) and Sirius let go before he could react.

"You're- what... Ron? I- never mind. What are you doing here?"

There was a look in his eyes, one that was something between curiosity, hesitation and suspicion all at the same time, pale lips drawn into a thin line. Regulus didn't have to say it out loud for Sirius to get the hint- he would have to be more careful in the future lest his brother found out who 'Ron' really was. His brother wasn't stupid- he wasn't stupid by a far stretch. Sirius had to remind himself that he been a Prefect in his fifth and sixth year at Hogwarts and he would bet everything he owned his brother would've been offered the Head Boy badge had he not already been knee deep into the Dark Arts and the Death Eaters by his seventh year.

"You were- uh- having a nightmare, I think. Thought it'd be best to wake you up."

Regulus grimaced, evidently disliking the fact that he was being reminded of his dream.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly. Did I wake you up?"

"Nah, I don't sleep much myself, to be honest."

Regulus nodded. They didn't exchange any more words after that, but neither did they go to sleep. They just sat in the dingy old living room, staring at the orange flames in the fireplace and the dusty old floorboards on the ground.

It was somehow comfortable, Sirius decided, having another person there to ward off the nightmares. He was sure his brother shared the sentiment.

~X~

"Did you go to Hogwarts?" His brother's question came out of the blue.

It was their fifth day at the dusty old shack- the second day of Regulus being awake- and it looked like his condition was finally, slowly but surely, getting better. Unfortunately, his health brought along with it a barrage of never-ending questions. It would seem that Regulus was determined to find out more about his new ally.

The older wizard had never given him a last name, and Regulus had accepted that, but that didn't mean he didn't pry for information wherever else he could. He was, in fact, scarily good at picking up hints Sirius hadn't even known he was dropping. He was also scarily good at dissecting every piece of information he was offered, coming up with a conclusion that was usually not incorrect.

"What?"

"Hogwarts. The only school of witchcraft and wizardry in the United Kingdom."

"Oh. No, no, I went to Beauxbatons. Excellent school, if I do say so myself. It's in France." He knew, of course, that Regulus knew where Beauxbatons was. The Blacks had a family estate in France, and their parents used to take them there for vacation nearly every year. The last trip there had been nothing short of disastrous, Sirius remembered. They had some distant family living in France and to Sirius' great chagrin they always visited them. Their cousins weren't that bad though, and they always had entertaining stories to tell about their adventures at Beauxbatons.

Sirius wondered if starting to speak with a slight French accent now would be overkill.

"I've heard of it yes, sounds like a good school indeed." Regulus amiably agreed.

"What about you? Hogwarts, I assume?"

"Yes. It isn't bad- though frankly they could do without the moving staircases. It was incredibly annoying, you know- you'd be on your way to Transfiguration and they'd just change on a whim, making you late." Sirius chuckled, he did remember that. "Are you nearly done? Holding out my arm like this is becoming kind of uncomfortable."

Sirius shrugged, hovering over his brother's Dark Mark with his wand once more before deciding that there indeed wasn't any more information to be gained by doing this.

"Yeah, sure." Regulus rolled his sleeve down once more, and it didn't escape Sirius' notice how he averted his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at it. He turned his gaze towards a broken cabinet instead. "I'm pretty sure it's a Protean Charm, as you said. It's been altered though."

"I thought so, yes."

"I wouldn't suggest you use your own magic to undo something that's connected to it... but I'm not sure I can do it either. Not without damaging... you know."

Nobody really knew what magic was. How it came to be. Or _why_ it came to be. All anybody knew was that magic was something individual. Some had it, most didn't. Those that had it, could bend the rules of muggle physics and do amazing things. Magic was also something many witches and wizards took for granted while it was actually sacred. Having one's magic damaged was excruciating- or that was how it was described by those it had happened to at least. Those few who had survived the ordeal and been sane enough to retell the tale.

Magic was something that was linked to a witch's or wizard's very being. Their core. Their essence. It was something that was always there, consciously or unconsciously, and most witches and wizards wouldn't be able to survive the shock of losing it. It wasn't like being a squib, because squibs were just born without it. Having magic and then having it be ripped away from you, that was a completely different matter.

Damaging it was a line most witches and wizards- even the dark ones- wouldn't cross.

It was painful, and it wasn't pretty or without consequences.

In the best case scenario Regulus might not go crazy.

In the worst he might end up dead or disabled.

"We might be able to find a way around it- if we could alter the Protean Charm."

"Theoretically. But even if somebody else was to do it... it might be too brutal- or the Dark Mark might be protected against such magic. It's too dangerous."

Regulus 'hmm'ed softly, a pensive sort of look on his face. He was still looking at that cabinet like it held all of the secrets of the universe.

"I suppose he'd have taken precautions against such actions, yes... I wonder though- what if it wasn't a _witch or wizard_ who altered the spell?"

What the hell was that supposed to mean? There was nobody else that could alter a spell- surely muggle healers would be no help! Dumbledore might know the answer, but Regulus was refusing to get anywhere near him or the school. Which was probably not exactly an unwise decision with him being a Death Eater and all... but still.

"You have a plan, don't you?"

"Sort of- mind you, I'm not sure if it will work... but it did once, so it might be possible to do it again. The Dark Lord's greatest fault is his arrogance, after all."

Sirius was officially lost, but Regulus looked determined and he supposed that a plan, no matter how dangerous, was better than no plan at all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading yet another chapter of this story! I hope you all enjoyed it. I'm also sorry for the long wait. I've been very busy with exams and stuff, which is why I didn't have the time to update until now. But that's all done now and I can go on writing fanfiction as usual again (yay)!<strong>

**What did you think of this chapter? Let me know in a review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!**

**I would also like to thank everybody who has favourited and reviewed so far! Anyway, on to the story now...**

* * *

><p>When Regulus had told him that he had a solution to the whole Dark Mark issue, Sirius had not really known what to expect. Maybe he had expected the answer to lie within an ancient tome of the Black family library nobody but Regulus had ever bothered to open before, or maybe he had expected it to be some dark sort of magic that his brother had learnt while being a Death Eater.<p>

Whatever it was that he had expected, it certainly wasn't the grumpy old house elf that stood in front of him right now. It was short and wrinkly, with big bat-like ears, and Sirius felt his lips turn up into a sneer as recognition flooded his system. Even though Kreacher looked admittedly less old and worn out than the last time Sirius had seen him, the Black family house elf still wore that same old sheet around its bony frame.

The Gryffindor fought to keep his expression neutral as Regulus introduced them to each other.

"Ron, this is Kreacher- my family's house elf."

As tradition dictated, Kreacher bowed deeply, and Sirius was surprised to realize that no muttering accompanied the action. This was evidently still before Kreacher had lost all of his marbles. Before everybody died and he was left alone in Grimmauld Place with no other company but that of his mother's horrid portrait and the heads of his dead ancestors lined along the wall. Sympathy didn't make Sirius dislike the elf any less though. Even before he grew old, Kreacher had been a nasty little... well, _creature_. Always used to tell on him when he found him doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing.

Jerkily, Sirius gave a nod.

"Kreacher, this is Ron. He's... helping me with my quest."

"So you think that your house elf can alter the charm...?" Sirius questioned dubiously. He couldn't help but notice how the house elf in question clung to Regulus' robes with a sort of strange desperation, his eyes puffy and bloodshot. Kreacher sniffed rather pathetically and used the sheet he wore as clothing to blow his nose with.

Disgusted, Sirius averted his gaze. Regulus was talking.

"I hope so, yes. There are few things that can really compare to house elf magic. It's quite powerful you see, it's a pity that they only get to use it to complete menial household tasks..."

House elf magic? Powerful? What on Earth was Regulus going on about? He supposed it _might_ be though- maybe. Goblin magic, Lily had once told him, was fascinating and completely different from their own magic... so why not house elves as well?

It was a bit difficult to imagine, but really, what other choice did they have? It was worth a shot, he supposed.

"And if it fails?"

A grim smile appeared on Regulus' face.

"Then you better make sure you get out of here before the Dark Lord catches up to me."

"Kreacher will not fail master Regulus!" The house elf called out, a look of pure determination in its beady eyes. Regulus' own eyes softened at this and he knelt down to place his hand on Kreacher's shoulder. He was now looking right into the house elf's eyes, his gaze unwavering. As if he were facing an equal.

It was the strangest experience, Sirius thought.

"I know you won't. But- no, listen to me- should _anything_ happen, should anything not go as planned, I want you to run. And take Ron there with you." He nodded at Sirius. The house elf looked like it wanted to protest, but Regulus gave him no such chance. "Alright? Can you do that for me?"

_Can you do that for me_, his brother had just said. Not _that's an order_. There was no _or else _hidden in his words_... _ the only other person he had ever witnessed acting this civilly towards a house elf was Hermoine Granger. Ironically, it was the same house elf both of them had been kind towards. Kreacher's reaction though was completely different this time.

Where Hermoine had received insults in response to her efforts, Regulus was getting a look of pure adoration. Kreacher looked like he was about to start crying again. He didn't, luckily.

"Yes, master Regulus."

Satisfied, Regulus got up.

"Let's get started then, shall we?"

One of the floorboards creaked as the three of them made their way over to the center of the living room. Regulus seated himself on the couch, and Sirius plopped down in one of the armchairs. Kreacher stood in front of Regulus, holding his master's outstretched arm in his own smaller hands. He inspected the Dark Mark for a couple of moments.

From where he sat, Sirius was already straining his ears for the sound of apparition. He had his own wand clutched in his fingers, mentally going over all the spells he knew that could aid him. Regulus' wand was in his pocket. He was taking no chances, if Kreacher did something wrong and it ended up alerting Voldemort and his Death Eaters he was getting Regulus out of this. He hadn't just risked his life to save him only so that his little brother could be killed by Voldemort a few days later.

"It's a Protean Charm." Regulus spoke, "Or that's what it's based on, at least."

Kreacher nodded. He was still waving his hand over it, presumably examining the spell. When he looked up, Sirius could only assume his features conveyed the same confusion and alarm his voice did.

"Master, the magic is-"

"-connected to the core of my magic, I know. Which is why we need to alter the charm without harming the Mark. Do you think you can do that, Kreacher?"

There was a silence during which Sirius thought the house elf would reply in negative, but, finally, it exhaled and nodded instead.

"Kreacher has never done anything like it before, but he believes it could be possible."

"But...?"

"But Kreacher thinks it will be painful."

A beat of silence, before-

"That doesn't matter."

Judging by the way Kreacher's back tensed, Sirius would bet everything he owned the house elf didn't share Regulus' opinion on this. Regulus himself didn't seem all too confident either, there was a haunted sort of look in his eyes (he dreaded this, Sirius could somehow tell), and he took a deep breath before going on.

"Alright Kreacher... we... we'll do it the same way we did in the- in the... we'll do it the same way we did last time." Sirius didn't like the sound of that. He didn't like it one bit. What _last time_? He did not like the idea of there being a previous time. "From now until we're done you will not listen to any of my orders... alright?"

Sirius liked the sound of that even less. The house elf nodded. Regulus tried to take a few calming breaths, and even attempted to give Sirius and the house elf a reassuring smile, but his eyes gave away his fear. He looked even younger somehow, reminding Sirius painfully of the kid that would wake him up in the middle of the night to check for monsters under the bed, and Sirius just wanted to _do _something about it.

He knew he couldn't. This was important.

"Master Regulus will have to remain still."

Regulus nodded and turned to Sirius.

"Could you-?"

He'd honestly rather not have to go through with any of this. But he had to, so Sirius nodded and got up. That same floorboard creaked as Sirius made his way over to his brother. He came to a stop behind him- a look downwards told him that Regulus was trembling.

He felt terrible, gently grabbing his brother's shoulders and pushing him back against the couch, but he told himself that he had to.

"It's okay." He told him. "It will be over soon."

At least he hoped so.

Kreacher's own eyes were filled with unshed tears, but even so his hands- sweaty as they were- were surprisingly steady. He looked up at Regulus for confirmation, and the Slytherin nodded.

"You can start, Kreacher."

Kreacher nodded back, squinted his eyes in concentration, and slowly wove his hand over Regulus' Dark Mark in strange, unfamiliar patterns. For the first few moments nothing happened and Sirius was starting to wonder if it was even working at all, but then Regulus winced.

His face was scrunched up unpleasantly, and Sirius could tell he was in pain. Apparently, whatever Kreacher was doing, it was working.

Kreacher looked up in concern as well, only to look back down again a second later. He apologized for causing him pain.

Sirius wasn't sure how long they sat there, only that with every passing moment, Regulus' pain only seemed to grow more intense. By the time ten minutes had ticked by, he had scrunched his eyes shut and Sirius had to keep him seated. By the time they hit the fifteen minute mark, he was crying. At twenty, the screaming started.

"I've got you." Sirius was desperately whispering over and over again. "It's okay, I've got you, little brother."

He didn't think Regulus could hear him- if he could, he was in too much pain to really process the words and figure out their meaning. Right now, Sirius found that he didn't really care either way.

Kreacher was apologizing even more profusely now, his shrill, panicked voice almost rising over Regulus' screams. A glance downwards (he couldn't afford more, with Regulus trying to break free) turned out to be a bad idea. The Dark Mark was blacker than ever before, somehow even more pronounced than usual against his brother's pale skin.

It looked like something was _crawling _underneath it.

"It burns! Stop it, please! _Please_!"

"It's alright." _It really, really wasn't. Nothing about this was alright. _"It will be over soon." _He didn't know that._

Sirius ran his free hand through his brother's hair, the same way their mother always did when Regulus was in need of comforting. Regulus was the baby of the family, and everybody had always coddled him. There was a time when Sirius had hated him for that, now he wanted nothing more than for his brother to be back at Grimmauld Place, being looked over and protected by their cousins, parents and himself.

"Please, make it stop! Please! I'm so sorry! Please just make it stop!"

It was when the apologies began, that Sirius couldn't take it any longer. There just didn't seem to be an end to them. Sirius didn't know who he was apologizing to or what he was apologizing for but he could stand it no longer.

He couldn't keep this up.

"Does he need to be conscious for this?" He asked Kreacher, whose head snapped up- his eyes wide and surprised. There were tear tracks running down his cheeks and for the first time Sirius really felt sorry for him. Maybe... maybe, if this whole thing worked out, he could try to be a bit nicer to Kreacher.

"Kreacher does not- he does not think so..."

That was all the prompting Sirius needed to let go of Regulus and point his wand at him.

"Stupefy!"

His brother's body went limp, and the room was filled with a looming silence. There was only gratitude in Kreacher's eyes as he gave a solemn nod and returned to work.

Sirius let out a sigh of relief, moved back to his armchair and plopped down in it. He watched Kreacher work in silence, he might not like the house elf, but he had to admit it was extremely loyal to Regulus. And for that he could appreciate it.

For an hour and a half they just sat there, Kreacher waving his hands over Regulus' Dark Mark and muttering ancient incantations Sirius had never heard before, and Sirius watching him attentively as he did so.

Regulus didn't stir, he looked almost peaceful with his eyes closed. At long last, Kreacher lowered his hands and turned to Sirius.

"Are you done? Is he okay?" The questions slipped past his lips before he could stop himself. The house elf nodded and Sirius felt relief flood his system. "Alright then, let's... let's wake him up. Rennervate."

Regulus' eyes snapped open and he sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. His muscles, which had tensed up the moment he was awakened, slowly relaxed and he looked around in confusion.

"How are you feeling?" Sirius asked.

"I... alright I guess... nothing hurts... I do feel a bit dizzy though. Did you stun me?"

"Yeah, sorry about that."

Regulus shook his head.

"No. I mean, I should thank you for that. I'm not sure how much more I'd have been able to take. So... thanks. How long was I out for, anyway?"

"About an hour and a half."

There was a nod, and then Regulus turned to Kreacher, who was standing aside, fingers clutching the old sheet he wore as clothing.

"Thank you. And I'm sorry for putting you through that, Kreacher."

Not unexpectedly, that was the exact moment that the house elf burst into tears. He clung to Regulus' robes, sobbing loudly and blubbering something about his master Regulus being too kind. Regulus knelt down to hug him. It was a strangely private moment so Sirius looked away.

"We should... test it, to see if it worked."

Sirius didn't like the sound of that very much, but it was an essential part of their plan. He had known it would come, sooner or later. They couldn't set their plan in motion, after all, without first confirming that the connection to Voldemort had indeed been cut.

Now, if Kreacher had failed, they would all die.

There was a tense silence in the living room as they all stood in front of the fireplace. Where there should be warmth- what with the fire right behind them- Sirius couldn't help the feeling of cold helplessness that nestled in the pit his stomach. Regulus' Mark certainly_ looked_ no different than otherwise from where Sirius was standing. Regulus raised his hand, about to summon Voldemort.

"Wait!" Sirius fumbled with his robes for a moment, finally pulling out the wand he'd taken from his brother some days ago. Regulus seemed surprised to have it returned to him. "If Voldemort does come, you'll at least have something to defend yourself with."

He nodded.

"Thanks."

Without further delay, Regulus raised his hand again. He held his fingers against the Mark, and for a few moments there was only a tense silence. It seemed like for the first couple of seconds no one even breathed.

The wind outside howled, and the floorboards creaked as Sirius shifted nervously. They strained their ears for the faint _pop_s of apparition.

Nothing happened.

The Black brothers exchanged a look. After another minute of silence and no sign of Voldemort, a smile spread out on Regulus' face.

"It worked," He breathed, his eyes alight with relief. "I can't believe it worked. Blimey... I could use some firewhiskey right now."

Sirius found that for once he completely agreed with Regulus.

~X~

_Dead. James and Lily Potter were _dead_._

_Sirius felt as if a cold hand had gripped his heart tightly, holding it firmly in an unwavering grip and making it difficult for him to breathe. He felt as if a bucket of icy cold water had been dumped over his head, and he couldn't quite get the shaking of his hands to stop._

_James' wand lay in the sofa, several feet away from its owner, and Lily- smart, wonderful, amazing Lily- lay dead in Harry's nursery. The two people that had done so much for him, the two people he would literally sacrifice the world for lay before him, and both of them were dead._

_He had only been able to stare at their vacant eyes for so long before having to avert his gaze._

_Godric's Hollow lay in pieces, but Voldemort was finally gone. Gone! Dead! Defeated! By a baby who was barely one year old. Everywhere, witches and wizards were celebrating this joyous day. But Sirius Black wasn't. Sirius Black felt like crawling in a hole and dying there._

"_I can't believe it." Hagrid spoke, his large beady eyes wet with tears. He dried them with a large pink handkerchief and then proceeded to use it to blow his nose. "Lily an' James Potter- couldn't find more wonderful people anywhere! An' now they're- they're-!"_

_Sirius swallowed, forcing back the tears that welled up in his own eyes. There would be a time for crying- there would be plenty of time for that later- but right now Sirius had other things to do. He had already lost two friends today, he couldn't bear to think he might've lost a third one as well._

_But if James and Lily were... if they were- he couldn't bear to even think of the word- then what chances of survival did Peter have? Still- he had to go there- he had to go to Peter's flat and see it for himself, because if there was even the slightest chance he might still be alive, Sirius had to know. And even if Peter wasn't... alive, then he at least owed him this much- he had gotten his friend into this mess to begin with, so it would only be fair for him to be the one to discover the body. Yes. Better him than Peter's poor old mother, after all._

"_Will you take care of Harry?" Sirius asked Hagrid, looking at the little bundle being held tenderly in the giant's large hands. Harry looked even smaller now that he was being held by someone as big as Hagrid. Sirius couldn't help but notice this._

_He didn't like the idea of Harry being taken off to stay with the muggles, but it would at least be a temporary arrangement- until himself or Remus could take Harry in. He'd talk to Dumbledore about it later, after the funeral, probably._

"_Yeah. Need ter take 'im to Surrey."_

"_Surrey? You're not apparating, are you?"_

"_No, no- not allowed ter, you know. Was thinkin' of takin' a broom- never been a fan of the floo network."_

_Sirius nodded._

"_You could always take my bike. I've got some stuff that I need to do so I won't be needing it."_

_When Sirius reached Peter's flat in downtown London, it didn't look any different from the way it usually did. He was immensely relieved not to find the Dark Mark floating in the air above the apartment complex, or any apparent signs of struggle at all indeed... something still lingered in the back of his mind though- something was wrong, and Sirius couldn't shake the feeling._

_It was as he started to make his way over to the building that the door opened, revealing the very same person he'd come here to see- half-believing he'd find a corpse. But Peter wasn't a corpse- he was very much alive and didn't even look injured, just tired and somewhat disheveled. Their eyes met for the whole of two seconds before Peter's look of panic changed into one of guilt and then- anger...?_

"_YOU!" He cried, pointing his finger at Sirius. "How could you! You killed them, you traitor!'_

_Lily and James was _them, _Sirius had the time to realize as he dodged a flash of bright red light, which hit the wall behind him and blasted a small crater into it. The people who were standing close by all stopped and turned to look at what was going on. It didn't take Sirius long to connect the dots._

_Peter was still shouting._

"_THEY TRUSTED YOU! You were the secret keeper!"_

_A strangely animalistic growl left Sirius' throat as he watched Peter-the real traitor- descend the stairs, all the while shouting accusations and pointing his wand at him._

_How dare he. How _could _he?!_

_They were friends! They would've given their life for Peter and he- he had-_

"_I'll kill you!"_

"_Like you did to James and Lily? I warned them about-"_

_Sirius was aware of the faint popping sounds all around him, ministry officials no doubt, who were here to see what the fuss was about._

_In the distance, Sirius could hear the muggle police-men sirens. Lily had told them about those one day- they were like aurors, but of the muggle variety. God, just thinking about Lily hurt at this point._

_Looking back at Peter filled his mind and heart with hatred._

"_You think that will work?! They have veritaserum! You'll be in Azkaban in no time, where you belong!"_

"_What are you talking about? _You'_re the one that killed them!"_

_What followed happened too fast for Sirius' mind to keep up to. There was an explosion, raising rubble and dust everywhere- screams and panic filling the air. He couldn't see a thing- he couldn't even see himself, much less Peter. When the smoke cleared it was only Sirius standing there, a single finger lying before him- nothing more._

_And Sirius just couldn't help but laugh. He laughed, because it was so ingenious, it was just so _perfect_. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed- unable to stop even as the pain in his heart became unbearable._

_He could only laugh._

~X~

Sirius didn't like sleeping. He hated the feeling unconsciousness, the helplessness that crashed onto him every time he closed his eyes and let his mind take over. He hated the way he wasn't in control of his dreams as it was just another way to remind him that he wasn't in control of his life- not really. There had been a time in the long lost past when he hadn't hated sleep, but those days were long gone now.

As Sirius sat up, a pained groan escaping his lips, he decided that _no_, getting Kreacher to get them the strongest firewhiskey he could get his hands on without being detected and then proceeding to drink it all had not been a good idea. Should have seen that coming, really.

Regulus was still passed out on the couch, so Sirius tiptoed past him. The boy didn't get much sleep himself- he might as well get some now, before he woke up with the mother of all hangovers.

The Gryffindor made his way over to the kitchen, strategically remembering to avoid the creaking floorboard on his way there, and poured himself a glass of water. The plumbing hadn't been used in years though, and the brown-ish slosh that fell into his glass only served to disgust him. He emptied the glass and used his wand instead.

A good strong coffee was what he really needed. Unfortunately, whoever had lived here prior to their arrival, didn't seem to have a coffee-making machine. He seated himself in one of the chairs instead, taking his time as he sipped the water and let his eyes wander.

The house wasn't much to look at, and unlike the Black Manor, Sirius got the feeling that with this rickety shack it had always been that way. Even without all the grandeur though, something about this place made him instantly dislike it.

Maybe it was all the green, it reminded him too much of Grimmauld Place. Or maybe it was just him being paranoid.

The creaking of that stupid floorboard alerted him of the fact that he was apparently no longer the only person awake. And indeed, only seconds passed before a sleepy-looking Regulus entered the kitchen.

"Is there coffee?"

"Good morning to you too, sunshine. And you know there isn't."

Regulus sighed in a disappointed sort of fashion and sat down in the chair opposite of Sirius. It was only as he pulled out his wand to wash a glass and fill it with some water, that Sirius realized he'd never taken it back last night.

Well... no matter... he supposed he could entrust him with it, for now.

"So, how are you feeling?"

"About as terrible as yourself, I would assume."

"Fair point."

They drank their water in mostly silence. Kreacher seemed to have left at some point during the night, so they were back to being alone. Speaking of Kreacher, he also seemed to have put some effort in cleaning this place up while they were sleeping- even if just a bit. Apparently the idea of his beloved master Regulus sleeping in such a place was too much for him to handle.

The brothers had never bothered to dust the tables or any of the furniture before, but now that it wasn't covered in a thick layer of dust anymore, the tabletop seemed to have captivated Regulus' interest.

He ran his finger over something, the tip of his lips turning slightly upwards as he chuckled. His eyes then seemed to land on something right next to it, and his smile disappeared, instead taking on a pensive expression.

"What is it?"

"... Morfin..." He whispered to himself, then suddenly looked up and right at Sirius. "Do you know anybody named Morfin? I could swear it sounds familiar."

Morphine? He remembered Hermione and Arthur talking about something like that... back at Grimmmauld Place. Several years in the future, technically.

"Isn't morphine... some sort of muggle potion? Uh, medicine I mean. I'm pretty sure that's what it was called."

Regulus didn't look like he had ever heard of morphine before, but he shook his head.

"No, I'm pretty sure it's a name. Come on, look."

Sirius got up and walked over to Regulus, peering over his shoulder at the now clean table. It was made of wood, and it looked like someone had carved his or her name on it with a knife or something.

_Morfin. _With an f, and without the e. Not the muggle drug then. Next to the name a crude doodle of a snake was.

Morfin, Morfin... Mor-fin. Despite it sounding like something a pureblood might name their kid (because who else would name their child 'Morfin'?), the name didn't sound familiar. It might've, many many years ago. But his lessons of pureblood genealogy had long since been lost to his mind and memory.

Regulus looked like he was still trying really hard to remember.

"Do you think wizards might've lived here...? There's nothing magical here though..."

"Well, typically, a wizard or witch's wand is buried with them after they die, and this house looks like it was abandoned years ago. Doesn't look like they had the financial capability to really afford much else either. If they had anything valuable they might've sold it- or hidden it." Regulus shrugged.

He had a point of course. It wasn't like they'd really gone snooping, was it? It didn't really matter either, they'd be out of this shack in just a couple of days.

"Well- that does explain all the green. We've landed ourselves in Slytherin territory. Figures."

Regulus gave him a look.

"I was a Slytherin, you know."

"Oh- uh- I didn't mean it like-"

"It doesn't matter, I'm used to it. Slytherin isn't the most popular House."

Before this could turn into a dispute about Houses (which he wasn't supposed to know much about anyway, what with him supposedly being a Beauxbatons student), Sirius changed the subject.

"Well, either way we should have a look around. There might be something we can use."

"Yes." Regulus agreed, but didn't move from where he was sitting, still looking like he was pondering over the name on the table. Sirius sighed and left the kitchen on his own.

The floorboard creaked again, and this time Sirius did stop. It was loose.

Believing this was a muggle house, he hadn't thought much about it previously. But now he remembered his own room in Grimmauld Place, there was this loose floorboard there under which he'd always hide the things he didn't want his mum finding. He remembered Harry mentioning a loose floorboard in his own bedroom with the muggles.

Loose floorboards tended to hide something.

Perhaps it was his instinct as a marauder, or maybe just his curiosity, but the mystery of the floorboard compelled him. He sat down and, carefully, he removed the floorboard. It was old, mouldy and disgusting, and Sirius resolved to wash his hands as soon as he had taken a peak at the hidden contents.

He peered down at the hole, and a golden glimmer caught his eye. It seemed to be... some sort of a box with... golden engravings. Runes, Sirius realized a moment later, but as he had never taken the class, he had no idea what they said.

It looked important enough.

Carefully, he took hold of the box and pulled it out. He vanished the cobwebs with a wave of his wand, tilting his head has he inspected the engravings on the box. Not all of them were runes. What looked like it was a golden drawing of a snake was slithering about the box, and Sirius didn't know whether it was simply decoration or some sort of protective spell, possibly something Dark.

He tried to force it open manually, but that didn't work. Next, he tried Alohomora, but that was just as ineffective as his previous attempt.

"Of course, _Slytherin!_" Regulus' excited voice suddenly cut through his thoughts. Looking up, he found his brother standing in the doorway, eyes alight with excitement. "It's Gaunt! Morfin Gaunt! How didn't I think of this earlier?!"

Though it obviously meant something to Regulus, the name didn't ring any bells in Sirius' mind.

"...who?"

"Morfin Gaunt! He was the son of Marvolo Gaunt, and- and the last living descendant of Salazar Slytherin!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Aaaand the plot becomes a bit more interesting. I've got a lot of things planned out for the next few chapters and I can't wait to write about it all... now that the Dark Mark problem is not really an issue anymore the Blacks can really begin their mission.**

**What did you think of this chapter? What do you think will be in the box Sirius just found (alright, that one's pretty obvious, I think)? Any other thoughts? Leave a review and let me know!**

**Until next time!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>When Sirius left 12 Grimmauld Place at the age of sixteen, loudly slamming the door behind him and ignoring his mother's furious screams for him to come back, he had sworn to himself that he would never return to that house again.<p>

He broke that promise eighteen years later, after he escaped Hogwarts on the back of Buckbeak the hippogriff and had nowhere else to go to. Another year later Voldemort came back and he ended up making his childhood home the new Order of the Phoenix HQ. His one solace was that, in addition to insulting the memory of his parents who would surely be turning in their graves had they known their home was being used to help the opposition, he was putting himself to use again- because nothing made him more agitated than the feeling of being useless. Sirius Black was a man of action, and he hated being cooped up in Grimmauld Place.

After he had fallen through the veil, Sirius had once again thought he would never have to return to that wretched place again. Evidently, the universe, even with all of its infinite possibilities, was not going to let that happen.

The discussion came up that same night, a couple of hours after the discovery of the mysterious box had been made. So far, no matter what the two of them had attempted, whether it was magic or plain old manhandling, the box had refused to be opened. The runes carved upon it were no real help either as even Regulus, who had graduated with an Outstanding in the subject of ancient runes, could not decipher their meaning. They were too old, he had said, or possibly too dark, to be taught at a school.

It was a bit disappointing, because it certainly _looked _like it could be important. When he had found it, Sirius had thought that they had scored for sure...

"There are probably books that could help us with this..." His brother spoke at some point that night, leaning back into his armchair as he twirled his wand around his fingers. Sirius had come to notice that it was something Regulus often did when he was thinking.

"Yeah, well, I doubt they're anywhere we can get to."

"There... might be a way, actually."

~X~

Sirius' instinctual reaction to Regulus' suggestion, was no. _Hell no_. He had absolutely no intention of ever getting even remotely _close_ to that house again. None whatsoever. He would rather battle a dragon to the bitter end. Hell, he would rather face_ Bellatrix_ all over again...!

Sirius was in fact ready to outright refuse his brother's suggestion, when the more logical part of his brain took charge. As much as he might resent to admit it, he knew that if there was any information to be gained about century-old runes forgotten in time, the library in the ancestral house of the Black family would be a perfect place to start looking. Though he had never frequented there, he knew that there were all sorts of ancient and illegal books kept in that library, unique books, or books that were -strictly speaking- not even supposed to exist anymore.

It was honestly their best shot right now.

What was more, going to Grimmauld Place would essentially mean that they could kill two birds with one stone. Because while Regulus was still very much alive, his Dark Mark was no longer active now- it would only be a matter of time until Voldemort caught up with that fact and hunted him down to find out the reason why. That was why, like the true Slytherin he was, his brother wanted to fake his death.

(_Yeah_, he still hadn't given up on that one. And in the back of his mind Sirius wondered if he wasn't creating some crazy sort of time paradox which would end with him going to Azkaban anyway, and his brother living off the remainder of his life in a muggle village going by the name of Reginald Gray or something, dead to the rest of the world. But that was absurd, so he dismissed it.)

Faking a death was a fairly simple task to accomplish when one had a semi-intelligent magical tapestry in their home, depicting the whole family tree and whether each individual was alive or deceased.

It was actually getting to it undetected and altering it that was the problem.

It took all of his willpower, but Sirius Black bit his tongue and agreed.

And that was how, on that dark moonless December night, the two wizards found themselves standing in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place, a short, nervous-looking house elf standing between them. Kreacher had transported them there with a loud _crack!,_ and for a moment after they had appeared, everyone was deathly quiet.

They strained their ears for any noises, but there were none.

"Right." Regulus whispered after a few moments, a relieved breath passing through his lips. That was part one of their infiltration done with. Now on to part two. "Let's do this fast, shall we? Kreacher, could you show Ron to the drawing room, please?"

Sirius, being a stranger, was not supposed to know the layout of the house, which was exactly why they had agreed to go about this the way they had: Regulus would take the library, which Sirius assumed his brother knew like the back of his hand by now (or at least well enough to avoid any cursed or man-eating books), and Sirius... or rather _Ron _would deal with... the tapestry.

"Be careful."

"Yeah, you too."

Sirius made sure to avoid any suspicious portraits as he followed the Black family house elf to the drawing room. Grimmauld Place hadn't changed much in his absence (could he even call it that if it had technically taken place in the future?)- though it _did_ look much more cleaner than when Sirius and the Weasleys had inhabited it. Sirius noticed, with no small amount of satisfaction, that his mother's horrid portrait had not yet been hung up on the wall. It probably wouldn't be for a couple more years.

Thank Merlin for that.

The house elf came to a stop, and Sirius realized they had arrived at the drawing room.

The wizard held out his wand, taking a few cautious steps inside the chamber. He slowly wove his wand over the tapestry, letting it illuminate the Black family tree. In all of its grandeur, long before household pests had gotten to it, the golden threads still looked hauntingly beautiful, connecting names of the long past and depicting a history his family had always been proud of. _Phineas Nigellus. Elladora. Cassiopeia. Pollux. Orion. Lucretia. Cygnus. Walburga. Narcissa... Bellatrix..._

He frowned at the familiar names, and then at the logo at the the top of the tapestry (_Toujours Pur, _he knew that it read even without looking)_, _already feeling the resentment rising in his chest. He had never liked this room much. The rest of his family on the other hand had always been very proud of it.

"This is it?" He questioned the house elf.

"Yes, sir. Master Regulus is right there, sir." He placed his finger on an icon, and Sirius' gaze dropped to it. He couldn't help but spare the burnt spot where his name used to be a fleeting glance.

"Right." He bent through his knees so that he was looking straight at the miniature drawing of his brother' head.

_Regulus Black, _it said, _1961_

There was no death date, and no skull.

But soon there would be.

The tapestry was an extraordinary piece of magic, one that tended to update itself without prompting- whether it was a birth or death the tapestry just _knew_. Having had a major part in the making of the marauders' map though, the Gryffindor didn't let that dishearten him.

He wove his wand over his brother's picture, murmuring a string of incantations under his breath. Slowly, so very, very slowly, his brother's face started to morph into the familiar shape of a skull and Sirius felt a rush of pride go through him. His handiwork wasn't half bad, if he did say so himself- Professor Flitwick would be proud.

He was about to start working on the death date, when a sharp cry of "_Expelliarmus!" _suddenly rendered him wandless.

"What in _Merlin's name _is going on here, Kreacher?!"

In the dimly lit doorway, holding out his wand threateningly, a man Sirius hadn't seen in nearly twenty years stood. Orion Black was still every bit as tall, stern-faced and unreadable as Sirius remembered him. With a flick of his wand, he had Sirius's arms and legs bound with rope.

To his left, Kreacher seemed to to be trying to punish himself already. He was sobbing, whacking himself on the head with a hideous lamp he had grabbed from the table, his words too muffled for either Black to make any sense of them. Orion seemed to realize this too, because he ordered Kreacher to stop.

"I'll deal with you later. Go fetch Walburga."

Kreacher scurried along, undoubtedly on his way to find the hag, and Orion turned his gaze back to his estranged son. Only that he didn't even know it was him. When put into perspective, his situation only seemed to only get so much worse. To his father, he was some _stranger_ whom he had just found in his house in the middle of the night, messing with an important family heirloom. There was literally nothing that could keep Orion Black form cursing his brains out now if he so desired.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

Well… Except for that, Sirius supposed. Additionally, he'd never been happier to see Regulus' face in his life. Their father on the other hand, looked like he had just seen a ghost.

"_Regulus?!_"

The boy in question grimaced.

"Hello, father."

"What- what's the meaning of this?"

"Orion? _Orion, what's wrong?_"

And to top it all off... mother dearest had just arrived at the crime scene as well. Sirius could tell that this was going to be a _long _night.

~X~

From as early on in his life as he could remember, Sirius' parents had always told him two things.

_Toujours pur means always pure _and _blood before all else._

The first part was pretty self-explanatory. Blacks were all about purity, and it wasn't for nothing that their motto was what it was. His dear old hag of a mother- who had married her second cousin in the name of blood purity- was a prime example of that.

It was truly a wonder neither hadn't escaped more messed up than they already were. (And do keep in mind that one brother had spent 12 years in Azkaban, escaped prison to commit the murder he was incarcerated for and ended up fleeing Hogwarts on the back of a hippogriff while the other was plotting his own fake death right now.)

Anyone who dared disgrace their family name by being different, ended up disowned. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black would only take the 'best'. Only that the best in this case was any bigoted pureblood who was rich enough to meet a Black's demands.

Like Malfoy, for example. _Surely_ Narcissa could have done better than that pompous prat. But a legacy was a legacy, and according to the Blacks it had to be carried on in the veins of only the purest of the pure.

Sirius had grown up having those words thrown at his head over and over again, and ever since he met James and was sorted into Gryffindor, he also knew that all of it was nonsense.

It was the second part that was met with some confusion.

He had always assumed that 'blood' pertained to 'blood purity', as in the desire to keep the bloodline as pure as possible. Blood, he had thought it meant, was more important than loyalty, or love, or friendship. It certainly had seemed that way, hadn't it? They had cast out both him and Andromeda without second thought when it came down to it.

Now, watching his brother try to explain himself to their parents, with both of them actually _listening _to what he had to say... Sirius thought that he finally understood what his parents had really meant all those years ago. _Blood_ referred to familial relations. It was a less sentimental way of saying, family comes first. Because as a general rule, Blacks didn't do sentiments. It was unfitting to their status as _the better sort. _Which was another pile or rubbish, if you asked Sirius.

He supposed there were limitations too, because they sure hadn't hesitated to blast him of the tapestry, had they? _And still_, a little voice in the back of his mind nagged, _hadn't the entirety of the Black family fortune been left to him after his mother's death? It could have easily gone to Narcissa and her son. _He quickly dispelled the thought, returning his attention to the matter at hand. It was... a very strange event to witness.

"How _dare _he!" Walburga Black screeched, getting up from her armchair in a fury. Sparks flew from the tip of her wand, and all men (plus a house elf) wisely leaned back into their chairs. "The _heir _of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black is not a... is not a _servant _to anybody!"

However much he might have disliked his brother during their younger years, he had to admit that Regulus always had known just the right words to get their parents on his side. Sirius, on the other hand, seemed to do nothing but rile them up whenever he had something to say. (Though that might or might not have been because of the fact that Sirius had always gone out of his way to antagonize them whenever he spoke).

"Walburga, calm yourself."

"Don't tell me to _calm myself!_ That wretched _thing_ is bound to Regulus' magic- that's- that's- that's basically implying- not even subtly- that our son is his slave! Regulus, a _Black!_"

"Do you think I don't know that?" The look her husband was giving her, cold, and filled with the same anger and indignation that shone in her own eyes, did make Regulus' mother quiet down. "I know perfectly well what it means. It's an insult to us- to every pureblood who has ever followed him. I know that."

The man coughed in his hand, and Regulus gave him a worried look.

"Father, wouldn't it be better if you were to... lie down?"

"Don't worry yourself. I'm fine." He coughed once more before going on. "We have more important matters to discuss. Like what you are going to do now."

"Hide, of course." Walburga spoke before anybody else could. "We have several estates in France-"

"I can't just disappear, mother. The Dark Lord will come looking for me."

"Well, then stay here. We can set up a few more wards-"

Orion shot the idea down.

"This is probably the first place he'll come looking."

"Then so be it! There's four of us and there will only be one of him!"

"Do you even hear yourself talking? The Dark Lord may not be who we thought he was, but that does not mean we should underestimate him."

"It's not that simple." Regulus agreed. "The Dark Lord is... he is powerful, and even if we did manage to take him down by some miracle we would still have all his Death Eaters out to get our blood." Walburga opened her mouth to respond, but Orion was faster.

"The boy is right. We should approach this carefully..."

The Lady of the house seemed to be having a hard time accepting that. Nevertheless, she bit back her anger, tightened her jaw and leaned back into her armchair.

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

Orion seemed satisfied.

"I'm sure Regulus had a plan when he and his... friend came here." He took a moment to look at Sirius, deliberating whether or not he should go on with his line of thought. "In fact, I found _Ron _here enchanting the tapestry-"

"_What?!"_

Before he could say anything in his defense (like _"Regulus put me up to this!"_), a wand was digging against his neck rather painfully. How on Earth his mother, fifty five years old and still counting, got to him so fast was anybody's guess. Ah, finally, there was his mother as Sirius remembered her.

"Walburga, please, put your wand down."

"I don't trust him! He won't even tell us his real name! Look at the state of him, he's dressed like a common crook!"

It always had been his mother that managed to get a rise out of him the fastest. And vice versa, truthfully.

"Oh, don't worry _ma'am_. I'm not interested in anything you might keep here. Your silverware is safe."

"_Do you see that?! _He's mocking me! He's mocking me in my own home, the vile little-"

"That's enough. There are precious few people one can really trust these days, so I'm sure you will forgive Ron for hiding his real name from us... It was after all him, as I understand it, that brought Regulus back to us, was it not?"

Regulus cleared his throat.

"It was. This man saved me- without him... I would be dead."

Walburga turned her head to look at her son, her youngest, the good son. He fidgeted under her harsh stare, for a moment looking like he was 11 again, but his eyes stared into hers unwaveringly. For several moments nobody moved and Sirius wondered if she was going to curse him after all, but finally she just dropped her wand with a huff.

"_I still don't trust you_. One wrong move, and you'll be wishing you never stepped into my house. Am I clear?" From behind her Regulus gave him a meaningful look and nodded his head. Sirius clenched his jaw but repeated the action.

_For the future. He was doing this for the future. For Lily and James. For Harry. For Remus. And for Regulus too, he supposed. He was doing this so all of these people could have a better life._

"Crystal."

The tension was broken when his father started coughing into his hand again, at which point all of the room's occupants turned to look at him. When it didn't stop for a while, Regulus moved over to him to help him sit up, and Walburga screamed something along the lines of "Kreacher! Get Orion's potion, you miserable excuse for an elf!".

Sirius had nearly forgotten with everything going on, but apparently 1979 wasn't only the year in which Regulus had mysteriously disappeared... it was also the year of his father's death.

A mere few weeks after Regulus, he had followed. Sirius hadn't paid it quite as much attention when it happened, still trying to forget about his little brother's mysterious demise. It had been a dark time filled with unwanted memories and more alcohol than he cared to admit. At least he'd had James there to get him through it.

Kreacher came running into the room, carrying a vial of clear liquid which Walburga snapped from his bony hands and passed to her husband. He grasped it with shaky hands, and it was with his son's help that he downed it all.

"Your condition's getting worse." His wife muttered when the coughing finally subsided. Orion leaned back into his armchair again, looking paler than before.

"I'm an old man, Walburga, it's only natural." He waved her off, even though the action earned him a dissatisfied scowl. "It's Regulus we should worry about."

That she couldn't disagree with.

"I still say it would be best to send him abroad. Fix him up a batch of polyjuice-."

"Even if you send him abroad, Voldemort will still be looking for him you know." The reaction to hearing their Dark Lord's name was instantaneous. Regulus visibly flinched, Walburga went stiff, and Orion was the one who reacted with-

"Do _not _say his name."

"It's just a name."

"I don't care, _do not say it_." In his youth, Sirius might have shouted it out a couple more times just to aggregate him. But Sirius was no longer a teenager and he bit his tongue. "As for Regulus having to go abroad, I agree. The further away from the Dark Lord he is the better. However... there might be an... alternative."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

The Black patriarch smirked, and in that moment Sirius saw only a Slytherin with a plan.

"We'll get the press involved. You know how they love a story."

~X~

_TRAGEDY STRIKES THE BLACK FAMILY_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_The Blacks, notable for their prestige among today's wizarding society, have suffered a great tragedy._

_In an earlier article published in the Prophet I discussed the mysterious disappearance of young heir to the Black fortune, 18-year-old Regulus Black. Rumours included dark wizard activity, a broomstick accident or even a possible elopement with one charming and rapidly growing in popularity, Ms. Zabini._

_(For further information check out issue 76 of the Daily Prophet)_

_Earlier today, however, we were contacted by Mrs. Walburga Black who had to share some most dreadful news with us. Mr. Black, she reports, had no accident while flying a broomstick or otherwise and the rumours of an elopement have been denied as well. The reason for Mr. Black's absence has been the fact that he has fallen ill with a terribly contagious disease._

"_We were hoping to keep it from the public in the hopes that Regulus would get better, but my son's condition has only been getting worse and worse." Mrs. Black commented. "Things are looking very grim right now."_

_And indeed, from the short visit we were allowed to pay to the young man, it seems to be the truth. Once a pretty face, only second to his elder brother Sirius Black, I have to disappoint the ladies by saying Regulus Black now looks like he has been afflicted with a serious case of Spattergroit._

"_My wife and I will be removing ourselves from our social functions so we can spend some additional time with our son." Mr. Black's father told us. This whole issue has obviously shaken the House of Black to its foundations._

_We have tried to get in contact with Mr. Black's older brother, but he has refused to comment on any of our statements and questions._

_Recovery chances seem slim and we can only hope for the best for young Mr. Black and his family._

As soon as he was done reading it, Regulus put the newspaper down with a huff.

"Only second to his elder brother, she has some gal to say that about a dying man! Looks like he has been afflicted with a serious case of Spattergroit! _Oh please! … _I never liked that woman..."

Watching the face of his father speak with Regulus' voice, was probably one of the strangest things Sirius had yet experienced. And between finding out one of his best friends was a werewolf and sharing a dorm with _James _for 7 years, Sirius could say with ease that he had seen his fair share of strange things. His father's face, usually cool and collected, was showing obvious signs of frustrations and Sirius couldn't decide if it was funny or creepy.

"You're not even dying, Regulus."

"It's the principle of the thing."

The younger Black (who now looked older?) took out a flask from his robes, making a face as he took a sip and then put it away again.

It was polyjuice potion. For some reason Sirius wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know, his parents had a good few doses of it stored in a hidden room at the end of the far left kitchen wall. Along with a whole bunch of other undoubtedly illegal things. If only he had known this when he was stuck there in the future- he would've actually been able to go to places!

"Regulus," Walburga Black was standing in the doorway, "Your father wishes to see you."

"Of course, mother."

"You too... _Ron_."

_Him?_

What in the world could his father possibly want with him? Nevertheless, Sirius got up and followed his brother. Walburga's distrusting glare followed him until he was out of sight.

At the end of the hallway two doors were, one that had once belonged to Sirius, and one that had a small golden plaque on it. It had been glued there with a permanent sticking charm- mostly to keep his 'annoying older brother out', not that it had ever helped much.

_Do Not Enter Without The Express Permission Of Regulus Arcturus Black._

It looked just as pompous as it sounded.

His little brother straightened up, squaring his shoulders as he had been taught since when he was young, and hesitantly raised a hand to knock on the dark, wooden door.

"Come in."

Their father, polyjuiced as Regulus, was seated on the big double bed, propped up against several pillows. Saying that he looked like he had caught Spattergroit was an exaggeration, but Rita Skeeter had always been known for that- and the matter of the fact was that he still didn't look healthy. He didn't have much time left. His neck was also allegedly swollen due to an allergic reaction, which prevented the youngest Black from speaking to anybody.

There was a book opened up in his lap and he looked up as the two newcomers entered the room.

"Ah, you're here... good. I wanted to talk to you."

"Is something wrong, father?"

"We wouldn't be here faking your death if there wasn't, now would we?" He had a point, of course. "Sit down. You must be wondering why I've asked to see you."

Both of them obeyed, taking a seat by the older man's bedside.

Sirius couldn't remember the last time he'd been in his brother's bedroom, but he did remember Regulus had always been painstakingly neat to the point of perfection- a big contrast to himself.

Silver and green adorned the room, and on the bedside table several framed pictures were. Sirius recognized the Slytherin quidditch team, but their names were lost on him. All of that had been so long ago.

Orion Black closed the book he had been reading and turned to look at his son.

"You borrowed this book from me a few weeks before your disappearance..."

It looked like an old book, Sirius noted. Not the kind one would find lying around in a normal library.

Its title was _Magick Moste Evile._

"I did." Regulus confirmed. Orion Black 'hmm'ed but didn't comment any further, both of the brothers saw it for what it was- a silent request for the Slytherin to go on. "I... that is information it would be better if you didn't know, father."

"I'm a dying man, it's not like I have much to lose. We can keep this conversation from your mother... if you'd like."

Regulus seemed to contemplate it for a moment, both Blacks awaiting his answer. Finally, he took out his wand and muttered "_muffliato_"... when he spoke, he only uttered a couple of words.

"It's... _the wickedest of magical inventions_. I believe that's how the book referred to it."

"... I see."

He didn't look particularly shocked, but Sirius noted that his father did look repulsed by the news. It reminded him of the night his brother told him about Voldemort's horcrux, the way he had hesitated... if even his father- who was a great Dark Arts enthusiast- felt repulsed by the very idea of a horcrux... it only proved how terrible a thing it was.

"You're not planning at stopping here, are you? You have greater plans than to just escape to France."

"Nobody else knows, we can't let the Dark Lord rule Britain. "

"It's not your problem to fix, son."

"Isn't it?" Regulus' fists clenched, a hand ghosting over his Dark Mark. "Let's not forget what I am- I share at least part of the blame."

There was a moment of silence during which neither Black spoke. Orion ended it by chuckling fondly.

"The heart of the Leo constellation, huh? ... How fitting."

Regulus. Latin for _little king. _A star situated at the heart of the Leo constellation. The Blacks were surprisingly spot on with the names they gave their children.

Regulus wasn't a Gryffindor like his brother though. The actions he had thought to be his last were brave and selfless, but above all else, Regulus Arcturus Black was a Slytherin. He was born one, and would always be a Slytherin.

Sirius saw that now, and he was starting to believe that maybe- just _maybe _that wasn't such a bad thing after all.

"Ron." Sirius hadn't been expecting to be addressed and was startled out of his thoughts quite embarrassingly.

"Uh.. yeah? I mean, yes?"

"Look out for Regulus. I don't know what you've done to earn his trust... but you clearly have it."

Sirius swallowed. Then nodded.

"I will."

"Good... ah, one last thing then..." He beckoned his son closer, and Sirius couldn't tell what they whispered to each other in hushed tones, but when Regulus pulled back, he was wearing a familiar ring on his finger.

It was the ring his father always wore- the ridiculously stuffy one. The one with the family crest stamped upon it.

Regulus was now the Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

~X~

It was the next day that it happened.

Sirius and Regulus were going through the massive Black family library, looking for any books that might aid them in either the destruction of the horcrux, or opening the mysterious box, when Kreacher stormed into the room.

So far, they had gathered a reasonable collection of books, all of which they stored in a pouch which had been enchanted to be bigger on the inside.

Regulus was the first one to look up when the house elf ran into the room while Sirius ignored it, contemplating whether or not to take _Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms _with them. He pushed it into the pouch.

"Master! Master! Kreacher has been sent by the mistress to inform you that the Dark Lord is here."

It seemed as if time had suddenly stopped. Sirius felt as if a bucket of icy water had been dropped over his head, and Regulus himself didn't look much better either. His hand automatically moved to where his Dark Mark would've been had he not been under the influence of polyjuice potion. They had known this day would come, but that didn't mean they had to like it.

Everything would depend on today's performance.

"Did he see you, Kreacher?" Regulus urgently whispered, running a hand through his black hair. Sirius noticed several grey hairs among it. The house elf shook his head. "Good. Go- go hide. And don't come out until I tell you to."

Kreacher bowed, and with a _crack_ he was gone.

Regulus didn't waste anymore time, he took out his flask, took a sip of polyjuice potion and strode out of the room.

There were three people in the room besides 'Regulus'.

Voldemort- just as Kreacher had said- stood by Regulus' bed, tall, and imposing, completely covered in black robes. His eyes were a piercing, inhuman red colour and his skin deathly pale. His brother kept his head high and his shoulders squared as he walked into the room- he was a good actor- Sirius would give him that.

Next to Voldemort, one Bellatrix Lestrange (or was it still Black at this point in time?) stood. Much younger than the last time Sirius had seen her, but apparently still every bit as insane. She was holding 'Regulus' by his nightclothes, halfway through dragging him out of bed.

"Being sick doesn't excuse forgetting your manners, dear cousin!" She screeched.

The third occupant of the room was Walburga Black, and she looked absolutely livid at her niece's behaviour.

"Bellatrix! Unhand my son right now!"

"Be silent, aunt Walburga!" The two women had their wands out in no time.

"Now now, Bellatrix. That's no way to treat your elders." Voldemort's voice was cold and condescending, but dear old Bella didn't seem to mind that. She looked at the man with a look of pure adoration. "Your cousin is clearly in no state to kneel right now- I think we can excuse him this once, hmm?"

"Yes, my Lord. Of course." She quickly stepped back.

"What is going on here?" Somehow, Regulus managed to pull off a decent imitation of his father's voice, and all of the room's occupants turned to look at him.

"Ah, Orion Black, I presume."

A stiff nod.

"There is no need for worry... I am merely checking up on Regulus. I couldn't just ignore it after all, could I? When I read all about it in the prophet- such a... _tragedy_."

"Who's _he_?" Bellatrix exclaimed, pointing her wand at Sirius. Sirius had half a mind to whip out his own wand, but a look from both 'Regulus' and 'Orion' kept him rooted to the ground.

"He's a healer."

Voldemort turned to 'Regulus', ignoring Sirius. "You know, when I could no longer contact you I had thought for a moment that you had deserted me..."

'Regulus' couldn't talk, but his eyes and expression read- "I would never!". There was a hint of fear in his eyes, but his gaze was unwavering. His family was really good at this.

"Hmm, yes, I suppose so. I trust that you understand though, that I had to come look for myself. Alas, it seems to be true... mortality gets the best of us." Then, as an afterthought he added, "Well, not _all _of us."

He smiled to himself mysteriously- not knowing that three people in that room already knew exactly what he was talking about.

The Dark Lord was there when 'Regulus' took his final breaths. Everything had gone according to plan.

"My condolences." The Dark Lord said. There was a mocking smile on his lips- and none of the room's occupants would ever forget the chill that ran through their spine as he departed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Aaand I'm back again. I hope you enjoyed this chapter- in the next one we'll get to see Regulus' funeral and some other pretty interesting developments! Let me know what you thought of this chapter, reviews make writers happy!**

**About the way I have decided to portray the Black family (in case there were any questions about that)- I do believe they consider family to be important, and that does not mean they are necessarily good people (they are definitely old-fashioned in their way of thinking and believe themselves to be better than the rest), but what Voldemort did to their son is something they couldn't accept or ignore. In their eyes, it was an insult. They put their kin before all else. As for Sirius, things are complicated with him, but in their eyes he betrayed them and the family by going to live with the Potters.**


End file.
